


I Own You, Sherlock

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dom Greg, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, Kneeling, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Greg, Protective Greg, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Submission, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4384460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt<br/>Super protective/verging on obsessive Lestrade who wants to make sure Sherlock doesn't get distracted with John and reminds him who he belongs to</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Own You, Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sherlockian4evr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/gifts).



> A one shot I couldn't resist.  
> Beta read by Sherlockian4evr

“You wanted to see me, Lestrade?”

Sherlock, the pompous prat that he was, was stood in the doorway to Greg's office hands in his coat pockets and a smirk on his face which was really just distracting the DI away from the fact that he should probably be laughing. 

“I did.”

“You know, I was busy.”

“Doing what?” Greg sounded bored, just to be irritating as the DI had been the one to make the summons. 

“Filling in John on the latest case, he does like the extra details, and with sharing a flat with him, I can't always ignore him. Plus, the praise it goes straight to y'know…”

Greg's head tilted sideways as he considered something mutely. He stood up slowly and made his way to Sherlock- no not to Sherlock to the strings running down the side of the window pane, he tugged them gently and the blinds shut with a snap. Then he shut and locked the door. 

By this point he was stood behind Sherlock and the cheeky shit hadn't even turned to look at him. He was using the toe of one of his shoes to kick at a crease in the rug on the office floor.

Greg raised a gentle caressing hand to between his shoulder blades, and Sherlock relaxed beneath the touch. Then he shoved. Hard. The detective grunted. Within seconds the DI had Sherlock bent over his desk and his arms behind him. 

“Going to struggle, little boy?”

“I'm not a little boy!” Sherlock squawked. 

“Oh, you are. My little boy, I should say my little shit really, shouldn't I?”

The detective grunted when Greg used his grip on Sherlock's arms to his advantage. 

“Shouldn't I?”

“Argh! Yes, sir!”

“Good. Now I think you should stay right there. You're attendance to our little arrangements have been poorly lacking recently.”

He used his issue handcuffs to keep his wrists where they were.

“Who do you belong to?”

“See, that's the thing, I have John now- ooph!” The younger man cut off as Greg pushed his head down by his neck hard into the table. “Who do you belong to?”

“Like I said that's-”

“I don't mind you staying there until you decide.” Greg cut him off again and reached into his desk drawer for the rope he kept in there for special occasions. He wrapped one length around each of the detective's legs and joined them to the table. He kept his hand at Sherlock's neck as he moved around to his chair. He tied a length of rope into a loop and slipped it over his head then tied it to the arm of his chair and picked up his pen. 

“You're just going to sit there…”

“My paperwork doesn't suddenly diminish when you act like a spoilt brat.”

Sherlock tugged at the rope around his neck by pulling up. 

“If you're trying to make it tighter to force me to remove it you should think again, it won't get tighter it's just to keep you like that.” Greg had specifically done the knot to ensure it wouldn't hurt him but he didn't want to word it like that, that would be too sentimental. 

“Why would you want me to be like this?”

“How’re your legs feeling?”

Good point. The burn was already extensive he shifted slightly and realised how limited his movement was, his legs were straight and being bent at the hips made his legs hyperextend. Depending on how long he was left would depend upon how unbearable it would become. 

The only noise in the room was the sound of the DI's pen scratching away. 

It took 37 minutes for Sherlock to work out what Greg was after, much longer than it should have done. “You, sir,” he said quietly.

“Me what?”

“You own me.”

“Ah good.”

Greg replaced the cap on his pen and slowly stood up, he undid the rope which was tied around his chair, he'd been right of course, it hadn't tightened at all.

Greg wriggled the detective’s trousers down. 

“Can you untie my legs now?” Sherlock asked when it became obvious that the only thing Greg was interested in was poking his finger into his hole and loosening it up with the lube he kept in the stationary pot on his desk. 

“What do you think?”

“Greg!”

That earned him a smack on the back of the head, making his head collide into the wood of the desk. He grunted and grumbled something incoherent. 

“What was that?” Greg snarled, shoving in a second finger. 

“I- Nothing, sir.” 

“Good boy.” Greg's tone was slightly lighter this time but his fingers weren't any less relentless in their task. 

“You know, I always wondered what it would be like to get an apology from you.”

Sherlock whimpered. “I don't do apologies.”

“I've heard you apologise to John.”

“That's different, I live with him.”

“And who owns you.” The DI was outright ignoring the detective's prostate as he began to scissor his fingers. 

“You. You do. Sir.”

“Now apologise.”

“I- no. I've got nothing to apologise for.”

Greg's hand landed with a thwack on his bare arse making Sherlock yelp and leaving the DI's hand impression in faded pink. 

“Apologise! Now!” Greg barked, bringing his hand down again with the same result. 

“I- I'm sorry, sir.”

The older man smiled, not that Sherlock could see but that was precisely the point. 

“What for?”

Sherlock yelped again but this time it was because of the third digit Greg was working in.

Sherlock's backside for some reason was on fire after only two slaps, they had been pretty hard though. 

“I- upsetting you.”

The third slap on an area of pale flesh landed. “Sir.”

“What else?”

“I don't know.”

“Who owns you?” Greg repeated. 

Oh. “For making you jealous, sir.”

“Good.” He pulled his fingers free from their relentless thudding in and out and unzipped his trousers, he'd already forgone his pants. Leaving the button done up he allowed his cock to spring free of its material confines and began rubbing his palm up and down it. He moaned in pleasure as Sherlock was writhing on the desk for contact but the DI had made sure when he tied his legs he had done it in a way that meant his cock wouldn't be able to reach the table to add any friction. Applying a bit more lube to his cock he lined himself up and pushed in. 

The detective whimpered and Greg leant down around him to untie his legs, he had meant to untie them earlier it just slipped his mind. The noise Sherlock made when he made contact with his prostate and released his legs at the same time went straight to Greg's groin. 

He teased his lover's prostate with the tip of his cock rubbing over it at every opportunity. 

Greg wasn't gentle, he never was, they both preferred it when he wasn't but today he was especially more rough than normal as he thudded in again and again.

“Greg- Greg please!”

“Please what?”

“I- I don't know…”

The DI laughed. “Wow that's a rarity.” With that passing remark he pulled out grabbed the detective by the hair and pulled him to his knees, unclasping the cuffs from around his wrists. Then he did his zip back up even though it wasn't the most comfortable thing to do and took a step back to look down at the detective. 

He looked up at him in confusion. 

“Who owns you?” 

His head ducked. “You do, sir.”

Greg nodded at the first time response and sat back in his chair watching the kneeling man.

The DI lifted the pen again and scribbled something down as Sherlock's hand went to his leaking cock.

“Ah, I don't think so somehow, do you?”

Sherlock looked up, fear flashed across his face, chased by… curiosity?

“How did you…”

Greg stood up in a way that reminded Sherlock of his brother. “I believe that's the question I usually ask you when you're being a dick at crime scenes. And it was obvious, I had just uncuffed you and left that untouched.” He toed Sherlock's cock with his shoe and the detective whimpered flinching back. “It's not rocket science.”

He grabbed his lover’s hands and pulled them back behind him. “Now get under my desk. I have an appointment with another DI from across the borough.”

Sherlock hissed as his wrists were cuffed again. “Should have thought it through.”

Greg made sure he was out of sight from the door and then replaced the blind back to normal before unlocking the door and poking his head out. “Donovan!”

Sherlock wasn't as squashed beneath the desk as he thought he would be but the slightest movement meant he knocked against something whether it be with his head or feet. 

Greg returned and gripped his hair in his fist, “when the conversation starts you're going to get me off with just your mouth and you are not going to make a sound, it shouldn't be that difficult I'm stupidly hard already. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a polite knock at the door and Sherlock hit his head on the desk when Greg abruptly let him go.

The DI stood up, “ah Stuart, good of you to come.”

There was some response but the kneeling man was only focused on one thing. As soon as Greg had sat back down he poked his foot into Sherlock's ribs and the detective got to work trying to work the zipper down with only his teeth. 

In mere moments he heard a gasp from above that was not very cleverly disguised as a cough. 

Sherlock swallowed Greg down whole to another muffled moan. He briefly considered what Greg was thinking about making him do this, he was of course going to make it as difficult as possible for the older man to engage in a conversation. 

Greg leant forward to rest on the desk and Sherlock choked, making his eyes water. He pulled back for a moment actually wary of the table this time. 

The DI's foot in his crotch told him he disapproved of the lack of contact and mouth around his length. 

Sherlock got back to it, swirling his tongue around the tip of his cock, he grazed his teeth along gently. Caught off-guard the DI shuddered and only just managed to retain control of himself before he yelled out at his spontaneous orgasm. He'd been trying to hold off for much longer. His hands gripped the edge of the table as he continued listening to what his colleague had to say. He felt his lover swallow around him and then spit him out when he was done like a piece of chewing gum. The thought made him mad and he sought a way to get rid of this rather dull inspector as soon as possible. 

As soon as they were alone again Greg reached under the desk grasped the consulting detective by dark curls and pulled him out. 

“Did you think that was funny?”

The DI made sure Sherlock stayed on his knees as he spoke. 

“I- you told me to get you off.”

“You rushed it deliberately.”

Sherlock's smirk was answer enough. Shaking his head Greg leant down picked up the detective by the scruff of his neck and pulled his pants and trousers up. Then undid the cuffs, dragged him to the door and kicked him out. 

“I own you, Sherlock. Remember that.”


End file.
